


A world that never was

by Vicky



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e06 The Real World, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 14:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicky/pseuds/Vicky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last two and a half years of his life hadn't existed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A world that never was

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Sparktober, and mainly for theladymore because I made her cry with one of my favourite John/Elizabeth moment. I hope this fic will make it up for you even though it's angsty. Also, I know that this plot had been done before, but well, it's the perfect fix-it, right? And as always, many thanks to my beta, the wonderful csiangel.

The last two and a half years of his life hadn't existed.

They hadn't taken Atlantis back to Earth; they hadn't even left Lantea in the first place. Michael hadn't abducted Teyla nor the Athosians. His father hadn't died and he hadn't made up with his brother. They hadn't allied with Todd and the Travelers to destroy the Asurans. Neither Richard Woolsey nor Colonel Carter had been appointed commanders of the expedition. They hadn't met Carson's clone; the good doctor hadn't died in the first place.

And he hadn't lost Elizabeth.

When he woke up in the infirmary to see her at his bedside, he had been so sure he was dreaming. There had been no other possible explanation for her presence on Atlantis. And then, Carson had walked up to his bed. He had jumped to his feet so fast that he tore the IV line from his hand. The pain he had been feeling had convinced him that it wasn't a dream, and his mind had found another explanation for what was happening: he had been captured and he wasn't on Atlantis. And it had fitted; he hadn't remembered falling asleep the night before.

Elizabeth had put her hand on his arm, but he had flinched away. He had seen the hurt look on her face, but he hadn't cared: she wasn't Elizabeth. He hadn't listened as she and Carson – or whoever he really was – explained what he had gone through. He had completely tuned them out by the time his team had made it to the infirmary. It had taken Rodney explaining what happened, and watching a video feed for John to finally believe them.

He had sat down heavily on the bed, finally allowing Carson to take a look at his hand, and his eyes had found Elizabeth's. He could still see traces of hurt in her eyes, but she had concealed it behind a determined look.

Carson had finally released him from the infirmary after a few examinations, and John had immediately sought the fresh ocean air.

The night had fallen on the City a couple of hours before, but he didn't feel like going back inside. Going back inside would mean facing a world – people – that he thought he had lost. But he had only dreamt it all. No, it hadn't been just a dream; it had felt real, too real. The nanites in him had provided him with a world that was far from perfect, but it had felt real, and maybe that had been why he hadn't realised that it wasn't until they managed to wake him up, almost two days later.

He wondered what would have happened if they hadn't managed to wake him up. Would he have woken up on his own? Or would he have been forever lost in a world that never was? He would never know the answer to these questions, and maybe that was for the best. But a part of him was still mad that he had never realised that the life he was living had been a lie. He should have been able to tell. There should have been clues, but he hadn't seen them.

He heard the balcony doors open behind him, but he didn't turn around. He didn't have to to know who it was. The person joined him at the railing, and sure enough, from the corner of his eye, he saw that it was Elizabeth. She mimicked his position, and he heard her take a deep breath.

"That was stupid breaking the quarantine the way you did," she said without preamble.

"And yet, with most of the nanites infecting me, it allowed you to wake up."

"I would have woken up eventually."

"You don't know that. Look, if I had to do it again, even if it meant being infected again, I would do it in a heartbeat. It was the right thing to do."

"John..." she started, but he interrupted her.

"No. It was worth it. It _was_ worth it," he repeated, his hands gripping the railing.

And it was, he had no doubt about it. What he had gone through had been painful and too real, and he would never be able to forget it, but in the end, it had been worth it. She wouldn't be able to change his mind about that. Yes, he would probably have nightmares about these two years that never existed, and it would take him time for him to not be startled when he met someone he thought dead in a hallway, but it was a price he was happy to pay.

He could feel Elizabeth's eyes on him. He knew she wanted to ask him about what happened to him, but she wouldn't. Just like he wouldn't ask what happened to her. It was something they would never share with other people. It was private. And it was painful. Neither of them cared to relive it, even with the only other person who could understand it.

"Thank you."

Elizabeth had said it so quietly that he almost missed it. He didn't say anything in reply; there was nothing he could say. When she turned away to get back inside, she put her hand on his and squeezed it. He turned his hand slightly and captured her fingertips, allowing the touch to linger a few seconds more. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and they shared a look of understanding.

He had come to realise something in this world created by the nanites, but he wouldn't speak of it. And she wouldn't ask him to. Maybe one day, when they would stop being haunted by a world that never existed, he would be able to talk about it and she would listen to him. But not now, when the memories of it were still so fresh – too fresh – in both their minds.

He let go of her hand, and turned his eyes back towards the ocean. He would need time to get used to being on Lantea again.

The balcony doors opened and closed, and he was alone once more. Alone with his thoughts, alone in a world he thought he had lost.

 

Fin.


End file.
